


A Lie

by kinkwriter



Series: Lies [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Broken Family, M/M, Man Pain, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 09:18:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8885365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkwriter/pseuds/kinkwriter
Summary: "What is it you want?" Galen asked, tired of the conversation. What could the man possibly want from him that he hadn’t already gotten?Krennic’s jaw twitched ever so slightly. “Do you really not know why I’m here?” he asked quietly. “Husband?”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElanneH](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElanneH/gifts).



Galen struggled to find his breath as he watched Orson Krennick walk ever closer to him, his black death troopers in tow. The damp of the planet clung to the engineer and left him shivering. Orson looked the same as he had years ago, though perhaps a bit greyer and a few more lines around his mouth.  His hard expression remained the same, blistered as it was into Galen’s memory.  

Galen also remembered that that expression had never been directed at him . . . until now.

The director came to a halt, his expression considering. Galen could feel the man’s eyes moving over him, taking in his wet clothes, long hair, and dirty unshaven face. Orson had always taken great pride in not only his own appearance but also that of those he chose to surround himself with.

His thin mouth curled into a sneer. “You traded your life on Coruscant for _this?”_

Galen grimaced at the disdain in Orson’s voice. “It’s a simple life. I’ve found myself growing fond of it,” he said.

Orson’s facial expression was nearly comical in how _not fond_ he was of the planet they were on. But then, Krennic had always been the kind of man who simply had to have the best of everything that life had to offer.

"What is it you want?" Galen asked, tired of the conversation. What could the man possibly want from him that he hadn’t already gotten?

Krennic’s jaw twitched ever so slightly. “Do you really not know why I’m here?” he asked quietly. “Husband?”

Galen looked away at the word. Were they even still married?  

The director raised a brow before turning to the death troopers. “Find the girl,” he ordered.

The engineer flinched. “She’s not here,” he murmured.  

Krennic looked unconvinced. “Where _is_ Jyn, Galen?”

The engineer swallowed. “She died,” he whispered. Anything to get Orson and his squad of deathtroopers away from her. Orson Krennic would not have come all the way here to leave empty-handed—more likely he was here to kill Galen for daring to walk out on him. Saw would come soon and take her to safety.

Orson’s eyes narrowed, and for a second he looked stricken. Then his expression smoothed out. “No. You are _lying._ Even you would not have kept that information from me if it were true.”

Galen looked away. “You never cared about her except as another way of controlling me. I did what you wanted, so take your revenge or leave me in peace.”

Orson’s jaw tightened in anger as he strode towards him until they were eye to eye. His gaze was searching and his brow furrowed as if he were confused. “What are you talking about?”

Memories of Orson sitting with him in the Academy courtyard flashed through his mind. Everyone always gave Galen Erso and his crack-pot ideas a wide berth, but Orson Krennic . . . Galen remembered falling in love with that man who smiled at Galen’s absurd notions of what was possible to be built by human hands. He remembered standing on the step of his dorm room with the impressive imperial officer—looking him in the eye as the man leaned forward and gave Galen his first kiss. He should have known it wasn’t true. Why would an up-and-coming bureaucrat with all the right connections give a damn about a flighty engineer whose ideas nearly got him laughed out of school?

Galen’s brow furrowed in anger. “Stop pretending! I _know!_ I know it was all a lie!”

“What is it that you _think_ you know, Galen?” Orson asked, and while his tone was calm, Galen heard the hitch in his voice—a tell that the director himself didn’t even seem to be aware of.

But after twenty years of marriage, Galen had thought he’d known them all. He’d thought he could tell when Orson was lying, but then that _man_ —Reeves Demesne—had shown up and Galen had remembered him. He’d remembered those dark eyes watching Orson during their days in university, remembered the glare he’d received when he’d started working in the same division, and now he remembered Reeves cornering him in a deserted hallway at the end of his shift two years ago.

“You’re almost done with the plans, aren’t you, Erso?” Demesne asked quietly, his eyes darting around suspiciously.

Galen had shaken his head. “That’s none of your business,” he said and had attempted to push past the other man.

Reeves had put a hand on his shoulder and slammed him back into the wall. “I am trying to save yours and your daughter’s lives,” he hissed.

Galen had been in so much shock at the words that he’d just stood there dumbly for a second before catching himself. “I don’t know what game you’re playing—”

Demesne cut in quickly. “When you’re finished with the schematics, Director Krennic will have no further use for you _or_ your offspring.”

“How dare you—” he’d begun, intent on getting away from this man who’d clearly had a break from reality.

Reeves shoved a datapad into his hands. “It’s all there. Krennic’s reports about you and your . . . relationship.”

Galen blinked rapidly as he activated the pad. The first entry . . .

_Erso is as intelligent as we suspected, and set quite far apart from his peers. The isolation will make it easier to secure his trust._

Galen had scrolled through the entries, the reports, detailing their dates, their kisses, when they had _sex_. Things that only he and Orson would know, outlined in clinical detail. His breathing had begun to quicken as old anxieties from decades ago reared their ugly head. He sagged against the wall before sliding to the ground.

The man made a disgusted noise. “Get ahold of yourself, Erso. The only way to save yourself—the only way to save your _daughter_ is to finish the plans and then disappear. They won’t come after you if you give them what they want.”

Demesne had left him then—left him sitting on the floor as tears threatened to spill over onto his cheeks. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, but there it was in black and white—his entire marriage laid bare like some cruel experiment. He’d done what he needed to do, unable to even look at Orson in those final weeks . . . And then he’d disappeared.

The engineer pushed those thoughts away. “I know that you sought me out back at the Academy,” he said, watching as Orson’s eyes widened fractionally. “All those ‘thought exercises’ were just you confirming my intelligence. You flirted with me, you started a relationship with me, you _married_ me—all for _Palpatine.”_

Orson sucked on his teeth in agitation. “You were never supposed to know about that.”

Galen snorted at the lack of denial. “I expect not—at least not until your precious Death Star was completed and then you could be well rid of me.”

Orson finally looked up and met his eyes. “You seem to know the beginning of the story, but not the end. Do you think I would have married you—had a _child_ with you if you were disposable?”

Galen let out a mirthless laugh. “I don’t know. I was married to you for more than twenty years, and I feel like I don’t even know who you are.” He shook his head, looking away. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I completed the schematics and left them for you. Why are you here? You don’t need me or Jyn.”

Orson reached over and pushed a few stray strands of wet hair away from Galen’s forehead before pulling away when Galen grimaced. “You’re my husband, Galen. Jyn is my daughter. How could you think I don’t need either of you?”

The engineer felt his eyes slide close. He wanted to desperately to believe Orson—believe that everything they’d had wasn’t all a lie. But to bring Jyn back into the heart of the empire . . . it was too great a risk.

His silence must have gone on too long because suddenly, those gentle fingers were back and turning his face back towards the director. Galen could feel Orson’s short blunt nails digging into his skin and he was close enough to see the way the white uniform had turned translucent in places.

Krennic’s voice was a soft hiss. “You made a fool of me, Galen—when you left. Tarkin took great joy in inquiring after my husband at every gala and the emperor . . . I had to plead on my _knees_ for your _life._ I had to convince them not to put a kill order out on you—had to make you indispensable.”

That was not what he’d wanted—had never been his intention “What have you done?”

Orson smiled as he released his harsh grip. “The work has . . . stalled. You need to come back.”

Galen shook his head. “I won't do it, Orson." After everything, he couldn’t bring himself to return there. The Death Star would be completed with or without him, but he couldn’t bring himself to be party to its construction any longer. He’d allowed his love for Orson to blind him before, but no longer.

The director didn’t seem put off. “Nothing has changed, Galen. You’re still my husband, and despite whatever delusion you’ve been laboring under while wallowing in that filthy hovel, you still love me. Do you remember when we would stay up half the night talking about our dreams? Peace—security for galaxy!”

Galen glared at him. “You don’t want peace, Orson. You want fear.”

Krennick shrugged. “Well . . . we have to start somewhere. Perhaps if you’d had a bit more of one and less of the other, I wouldn’t have to drag you and our daughter back to our home.”

Galen was about to respond when one of the deathtroopers walked up to them. “Sir, there is no sign of the girl.”

Orson sighed. There were bags under his eyes, Galen realized, just a shade darker than the rest of his skin. “Tell me where she is, Galen. Then we can all go home together. You and she will have the best of everything.”

No . . . he couldn’t do that to Jyn. “You mean she’ll be your hostage.”

The director didn't respond. Galen looked up— _looked_ at the man—and saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. The lines around Orson's eyes grew tight. It was only a moment, and quick to pass, but the whole of Orson Krennic seemed to slump with exhaustion. “Tell me where she is or I will leave a dozen squads hidden here to await whoever it is that received that distress call you sent out. No doubt it will be one of your rebellion contacts that hid you to begin with. My ‘troopers will take the rebel, and it will be a sad end for him and whoever he was working with. Is that what you want?”

Galen swallowed. If they caught Saw, it would strike a massive blow to the rebellion. Saw Gerrera might not have been liked by the more moderate rebels but he got things done far more quickly. He also had major support from the rim worlds, one of which was where Galen Erso had come from.

The rebellion needed Saw and Galen couldn’t allow the man to be sacrificed for his own mistakes. “She’s in a bunker hidden in the rocks of the cave behind the house.”

Orson nodded before turning back to the ‘trooper. “Retrieve her— _gently.”_

“Yes, sir.”

Orson stepped even closer so that their breaths mingled. Galen could smell the scent of mint and recycled air that still clung to the man. He longed to step back, but it would be a futile gesture. Orson Krennic had come here, and there was nothing Galen could do now to protect himself or his daughter. The director watched him for a few seconds before reaching out again.  His gloved hands came on either side of Galen’s face to cup his jaw, and he leaned in until their foreheads were touching.

“I have much to make up for, I know—but I will. I promise,” he said before brushing his lips over Galen’s. The engineer felt his breath catch. Orson was the only person he’d ever loved—ever kissed—ever given himself to. Why did it all have to be a lie?

“Papa!” he heard from behind, but when he tried to turn around, his wrist was caught in the iron grip of his husband. Jyn had her arms around the neck of the deathtrooper, holding on as he carried her over the desolate landscape. She clutched her own white stormtrooper doll to her chest.

Galen heard Orson's breath stutter and he looked over, but the director was no longer looking his way. No . . . his eyes were on Jyn. Orson's hands went behind his back at once, drawn by some invisible force, as if he was keeping himself from reaching out.

When they were around five meters away, the ‘trooper lowered the girl to the ground. She ran towards Galen at once, but Orson twitched, his knees bending ever so slightly as though he intended to catch her in his own arms. He perhaps might have followed through, but Jyn was clearly uninterested in the officer and the man straightened again. Galen, for his part, knelt in loamy earth as he pulled her into his arms and held onto her tightly.

“I’m sorry, papa,” she said. “I hid just like you said, but I still got found.”

He smiled into her hair. “It’s alright, Jyn. You did well.”

She giggled and Orson crouched down. “Jyn, do you remember me?” he asked, his voice gentle as it had been in the days of their youth. Galen flinched, both at the memories, and also the reminder of what he’d done. Jyn had only been three years old when they’d left.

“No,” she said, blinking in confusion.

“I’m your father,” Orson said with a kind smile and Galen felt his fingers tighten ever so slightly on Jyn. She blinked several times before looking back at Galen.

He hesitated but finally nodded and she looked back at Orson. “Where have you been?”

The director laughed. “Looking for you, my love. I lost you and your papa, but I’ve found you both now, and we’re going to be a family again.”

She smiled. “Really?”

Orson nodded. “Of course. I came all the way here because I love you.”

She pulled away from Galen and he let her go, watching as she walked closer to her father. Galen could see what she wanted, but she was still unsure. Orson, however scooped her up and held her in a hug that had his cape partially draped over her. Galen stood up as well and looked at them—looked at Jyn with her stormtrooper doll being held by Director Orson Krennic, Galen’s husband. He was sure Orson would deny it later, but he could see the moisture that had gathered around the director's eyes as the man held her close and buried his face into her plaits. 

Orson must have made some soft noise because the little girl patted his shoulder. "It's alright, father. You found us."

The director nodded before looking back up at Galen and holding his free hand out. “It’s time to go,” he said.

The engineer felt himself shrivel up inside, but he nodded. Orson’s gloved hand was cold in his as Galen allowed himself to be led back towards the director’s ship.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in like two hours, so I hope it's alright. I went through it with my beta Copper_Nails(who is awesome) and ended up mentally writing a ton of backstory for these guys while explaining certain parts of the story. Currently I have ideas for a few extra one shots that could be posted and connected to this fic in a series. If anyone is interested in:  
> >Orson and Galen's first time meeting  
> >The backstory of Reeves Demesne and why he did what he did(my personal fav)  
> >Orsen coming home to find his family gone + the aftermath  
> >Orsen and Galen observing their daughter's graduation from the imperial academy
> 
> comment below and let me know. I have a ton of other fics and original works to write while I'm on break before next semester, so I'm all about prioritization. If any of these is asked for more than the others then I'll see about writing it up. :)
> 
> thanks for reading!!


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